


Needs Met

by voleuse



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-06-22
Updated: 2004-06-22
Packaged: 2017-10-06 09:51:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lilah likes it when she's owed a favor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Needs Met

**Author's Note:**

> Set before "Habeas Corpses."

Lilah's secretary's phone rings six dozen times a day.

Two thirds of these calls are in-house, from the lesser employees who don't merit Lilah's direct extension. Lilah's secretary evaluates the importance of those calls, takes messages, and puts the urgent messages on Lilah's desk. The less urgent ones get shunted to Gavin's office.

The third of the calls are from the outside, and those, she has to be more careful about. The outright kooks, the demon hunters and demon hunter hunters, she usually hangs up on, or at least transfers to another department.

If the callers seem to be legitimate, she takes messages, requests background research from Files and Records, and compiles a file for Lilah, to be presented each day after lunch.

If the call comes from Sunnydale, she transfers it to Lilah's extension immediately.

Willow Rosenberg calls at half past nine on a Tuesday morning.

*

 

"I need to borrow a book." Willow's voice sounds grim, but not panicked. A good sign.

Lilah shrugs, since Willow can (probably) not see her over the phone line. "Anything for the woman who almost ended the world."

"I prefer Willow, thanks."

"Whatever you say." Lilah leans back in her chair and props her feet on her desk. She loves getting news from Sunnydale. It almost always translates into a hefty bonus and an afternoon in bed. "Any particular book?"

"The Erinyes prophecies." Pages rustle over the line, and Lilah can barely hear a man's voice, murmuring something to Willow. "And possibly the Bryson Compendium."

"Easily done," Lilah replies, "but you have to be here in person."

There's a pause before Willow's response. "No tricks?"

"Not on you, sweetheart." Lilah examines her manicure, decides she needs to stop by the salon during lunch. "Half of our warlocks would kill just to shake your hand."

"Great." Willow sounds less than enthused. "I'll be there on Thursday afternoon."

"I look forward to it."

*

 

Instead of shunting Willow off with one of the ex-Watchery types in research, she arranges for an empty conference room and one of the templates.

When Willow is escorted to the room, she's confronted with a single book laid on a long table. Lilah's perched next to the book, and from the look on Willow's face, she thinks the witch might be torn between getting a hold of the template's pages or the garters that just barely disappear under Lilah's skirt.

It's a tribute to Willow' professionalism that she goes for the book, Lilah thinks.

No one out-professionals Lilah Morgan, however, and she watches Willow page through the empty book for several minutes, meeting each reproachful look with a confident smirk.

Finally, Willow slams the book onto the table, open-faced, and glares at Lilah. There's a bit of power behind that gaze, but Lilah's been on the receiving end of worse.

"Something wrong, Miss Rosenberg?"

"You promised me the Erinyes prophecies." Willow's eyes are flickering, now, but not nearly so much as the ink appearing on the book's pages.

Lilah points to the rapidly scrolling parchment. "So I did."

Willow looks at the book again, almost absent-mindedly, then does a double-take. She stares as the pages are covered, then thumbs through the book again, running her fingers over the text.

"Well." She gulps, looks at Lilah with something like contrition on her face. "I."

Lilah lets her hang for a minute, enjoying the girl's discomfort. "You?"

"Thanks."

Lilah doesn't respond, but struts out of the conference room with an extra swing of her hips.

*

 

Willow appears in her office doorway three hours later.

"Let me guess," Lilah begins, not bothering to look up from the file she's reviewing. "You came to say _thank you_, enmity be damned." She grins, scanning the signatures of five warlocks and a member of Congress. "You're not off the mark." She props her legs on her desk again, watches as Willow's eyes travel up from Jimmy Choo pumps until they reach her face.

It takes a while.

Lilah watches as the muscles in Willow's throat flex, even as Willow stammers a belated response.

"Yeah. Thanks." Her eyes flick up, then down again. "I owe you one."

Lilah pushes back from her desk, plants her feet on the ground. "Do you?"

Willow nods, firmly.

Lilah stands, stalks to Willow, and shuts the office door, bracing her hands on either side of Willow's shoulders. She leans in, revels in Willow's shiver as she brushes her lips against her ear.

"I know just the way you can repay the favor."

*

 

Lilah's secretary's phone rings six dozen times a day.

"Lilah Morgan's office. How may I help you today?"

If it's important enough, she'll pass the call onto Lilah's extension.

When she hears the telltale thuds, whimpers, and muffled shrieks, however, she alters her template.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Morgan isn't available until tomorrow afternoon. May I take a message, or would you like to call back?"

Most calls aren't worth the consequences interrupting Lilah, unless the world is ending.

She's learned that the hard way.


End file.
